


Jeurici Rain

by LearnedFoot



Series: Doctor Who/MCU Crossovers [5]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-typical flirting, First Meetings, Fix-It, Gen, Mentions of Tony Stark's Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:35:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23511721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LearnedFoot/pseuds/LearnedFoot
Summary: Three times Tony Stark meets the Doctor.
Relationships: Tenth Doctor & Tony Stark
Series: Doctor Who/MCU Crossovers [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1749667
Comments: 14
Kudos: 113
Collections: Clever Crossovers & Fantastic Fusions, Robot Rainbow 2020





	Jeurici Rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heartbeatstumbles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartbeatstumbles/gifts).



> A treat for you, because your desire for a Doctor Who/MCU x-over made me really happy. 
> 
> I spent some time trying to figure out what year Iron Man took place and made myself confused. Let’s go with 2009, since that seems like the best extrapolation.

“You’re Tony Stark!”

Tony looks the man up and down. Scrawny, with the big, excited smile of a fan. Great. He is definitely too drunk to deal with another grad student gushing about his latest paper. Why are people never satisfied with the stupid lectures? “No autographs.”

“Oh, I don’t need an autograph.” This guy’s enthusiasm is palpable; Tony can practically taste it. Or maybe that's the leftover taste of mediocre conference sandwiches. Listen, he’s pretty drunk. “I’ve always wanted to meet you. Iron Man!”

Tony has no idea what that means, but it’s too good an opening to waste, and the guys does have a nice smile. Also, Tony might be too drunk to find someone else to take home tonight. Don’t pass up an easy opportunity, that’s what he always says. Okay, it’s what Obie says, but it’s good advice.

“Oh yeah.” He leans in, suggestive. “I can give you an iron man.”

The man stills, then frowns and looks around. His eyes land on the conference banner.

“December 2008,” he says, which, yes, that is the date. “Too early.”

Weird comment. How drunk is this guy? He doesn’t seem drunk, but Tony is, admittedly, not in the best state to judge such things. Or any things.

“Congratulations, you’ve figured out what year it is,” he says, ignoring the _too early_ comment because what the hell is he going to do with nonsense? “So. Want to meet my iron man?”

On second thought, repeating the pun makes it seem stupid. Mistake noted. Maybe that’s why the man cringes and shakes his head, no longer looking happy to meet him.

“Maybe when you’re older,” he says. He pats Tony on the shoulder. “If you must, there’s a gaggle of grad students in that corner who have been whispering about you all night.” He points. Some of them are cute. Good tip. “But I suggest you get some sleep. You have a rough year ahead of you.”

“You’re weird,” Tony informs him.

“And you’re an ass,” the man replies with a shrug. “But I’ll give you special dispensation for being too early. Until we meet again, Tony Stark.”

By the time Tony persuades two of the grad students to go up to his hotel room, he’s already forgotten about the drunk guy who didn’t know what year it is.

* * *

“Last time we met I blamed it on the year, but I’m starting to think the problem is you.”

Tony glares at the man calling himself the Doctor, who insists they’ve met before (plausible, Tony was pretty smashed at that conference), and also insists he’s an alien here to help (also plausible. After New York, what the fuck does he know?).

“You’re not so great to work with yourself,” he grits out behind clenched teeth. His arms are really starting to hurt. “And I only see one of us holding up the cave that’s trying to crush us to death.”

The Doctor looks up, like he’s seriously considering the point. “It wouldn’t be about to crush us to death if _you’d_ listened to me about the instability of the wea—”

“And if you’re so great,” Tony cuts in, because the Doctor has a point and he doesn’t want to let him make it, “why did you show up for this nothing Hydra mission when you were MIA during New York?”

The Doctor bristles, clearly offended. “For your information, not every important ‘mission’ involves blowing things up. And _this_ ”—he holds up the vial of liquid Tony is supposed to be returning to Cap—“is _not_ Hydra.”

The liquid glows dimly in the light, somehow giving the impression of both being a rainbow and no color at all. It’s beautiful, but so was Loki’s scepter. Beautiful, Tony has learned, doesn’t count for much.

“Then what is it? In my experience, most glowing substances are bad news, so forgive me for being suspicious of anyone who wants to steal it.”

“Pure, distilled Jeurici Rain,” the Doctor says, tucking the vial away in his coat pocket. The only light left comes from the glow of Tony’s suit and the Doctor’s ridiculous screwdriver. “A planet nourished by color. It’s incredibly rare, and incredibly potent. Life giving. One day, you may be glad I took it.”

“You’re going to have to take that up with Cap,” Tony says, shifting position. “I do not need another lecture from him.”

“Oh, what’s a little lecture? I thought you were supposed to be brave.”

“You’ve clearly never had Cap yammer at you about responsibility for an hour.”

The Doctor looks down at his screwdriver. Its light is starting to pulsate. “And unfortunately for you, I’m not starting today.” He taps something on his ear—a transmitter Tony hadn’t even noticed. “Good work,” he says to whoever’s on the other side. “Beam me up, Scotty.”

Through static, Tony can hear a woman snap, “You’re not as funny as you think you are!” in a thick English accent, and then the Doctor—and the vial—is gone.

Man, this debrief is going to _suck_.

* * *

Tony wakes up under a sky like diamonds, surrounded by aquamarine grass and the smell of honey, just slightly too sweet to be pleasant. It’s all very strange, but the strangest part is that he woke up at all. He’s supposed to be dead.

He sits, head throbbing, and is handed a cup of water. He follows a hand. It’s attached to the Doctor.

Hold up. _What_?

“Huh?” he says. It’s not very eloquent, but in his defense, he’s _supposed to be dead_.

The Doctor grins and takes a seat beside him, delighted and maybe a little smug. He holds out his other hand, revealing an empty vial. The same vial he’d stolen off Tony a decade ago, when it wasn’t so empty.

“I told you you’d be glad I took it,” he declares. Definitely smug. “Welcome to Redwied, the most restorative planet in the known universe. And most of the unknown universe, actually. I’ve checked.”

“ _What_?”

The Doctor nudges the cup Tony is still clutching uselessly. “Drink. It’ll help.”

Tony drinks. It’s sweet, like the air, and does make his head hurt less. It doesn’t, however, clarify the situation.

“How am I alive?” he asks once he’s finished the cup.

“Wellll, I sort of…stole your body,” the Doctor admits. At least he has the sense to look a little bashful about it. “Don’t worry, I plan on returning you. But if you’re going to be revived from the dead, this is the place to do it. Explaining seemed complicated.”

“You _stole my body_?” But even as he says it, Tony knows the protest is weak. He’s alive, somehow. It’s kind of hard to argue with that. “Why? I thought you hated me.”

“You sacrificed yourself for the universe. That deserves a second chance.” The Doctor pauses, then gives him another amused smile. “Even if you are an ass.”

Tony laughs quietly. This guy is unquestionably weird, but he gets that logic. “And you can just…do that? Bring me back to life?”

The Doctor glances over, and for a moment, Tony sees uncertainty. But then he brightens and leaps to his feet. “Come on. There’s a spa over the hill, you’ll love it.”

Well, that’s a dodged answer if he ever heard one. But when Tony stands, he feels light and strong, completely new. It’s as if all the battles of the last decade have been erased, replaced with boundless energy.

 _Fuck it_ , he decides as he catches up with the Doctor, who is striding away at unnecessary speeds. No way is this going to go smoothly, but when has anything ever gone smoothly before? Give him the faintest sliver of hope, and he can get through anything.

He’s alive again—that’s all the hope he needs.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, feedback is loved <3


End file.
